Clash (The Arinthian Line Book 4) (45 page)

Giovanni was gesticulating wildly in the background. “Yet his inexperience is clearly showing because The Hood has yet to unleash a single attack—”

Alejandra used Augum’s hesitation to raise an arm, shouting, “Dreadus terrablus!”

But Augum, well-prepared for the tingling that the Fear spell triggers, blocked it with his Mind Armor, immediately countering by slamming his fists together and shouting, “ANNIHILO!” The spell—the word itself amplified arcanely to thunder through the arena—felt even more powerful than usual—except he changed his aim at the last moment. A crackling bolt of lightning connected with the ground at her feet, instantly blowing a deep hole in the earth and making her yelp. One of the flowers in her hair loosened and fell to the ground as she stumbled.

Augum knew how powerful his First Offensive was and did not want to hurt her. His always-sharpening sense of battle told him she would not have raised her shield in time.

The crowd roared again as Giovanni’s booming voice was yelling, “A massive shot of lightning that surely would have done heavy damage had it struck true! Superbly advanced for a 4th degree—”

Augum used the initiative he had gained to concentrate deeply while shooting an open palm forward, yelling, “FLUSTRATO!”

Alejandra, still bouncing on one foot as she scrambled to get away from the smoking hole, suddenly had her head snap back as if hit by a stone. The crowd, having heard the spell and understanding its effect, roared its approval as she fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, where she slowly writhed about.

“It’s one-one, but that surely must be it, folks, for she is as dull-witted as a newborn babe now! Was that not a powerful casting of Confusion? Oh boy, the others better watch out, we have a real arcane warrior here. Now all The Hood has to do is finish her off—”

But Augum just stood there, breathing deeply. Finish her off? How? She was defenseless! Was he supposed to run down the hourglass or something?

The crowd was getting louder and angrier—everyone seemed to have an opinion on what he should do, but it all sounded like one great cacophonous roar.

Augum looked around for support, still unable to find Bridget and Leera in the howling masses.

“He’s hesitating, folks, and she’s fighting it off!”

Alejandra weakly gestured at a weapon stand and a spear soon hurtled Augum’s way. He easily blocked it with another summoning of his shield.

Alejandra weakly got up on her feet, knees wobbly. “Voidus aurus—” but Augum’s Mind Armor was too strong for her weakened Deafness spell. He gestured at a club on her right and practice sword on her left.

“A dual Telekinetic attack!” Giovanni was shouting. “An exquisitely rare feat for a 4th degree, one I am sure we have not seen in someone this young since the likes of the villainous Anna Atticus Stone—”

Alejandra summoned a small shield to block the sword, but failed to block the club, which thunked into her back.

“Two-one for The Hood!” Giovanni shouted as the crowd’s cheers swelled.

The club strike seemed to jolt Alejandra. She drew a star shape in the air. “Summano elementus minimus!” and a tiny creature about the size of a puppy ripped into existence.

Augum immediately drew his own star-like shape, concentrating on the appropriate arcane energies and thoughts. A lightning elemental three times Alejandra’s size—but still only about waist high—crackled to life. The crowd made an
Oooo
sound as Giovanni snorted a laugh at the size disparity. The crowd quickly chimed in with its own laughter.

Augum pointed at the tiny earth elemental. “Elementus, attack!” His elemental made a sizzling sound as it shot forth, obliterating Alejandra’s elemental with one kick. She made a yelping sound and began to retreat.

“She’s lost her composure! Will The Hood finish her off now?”

But Augum didn’t give the command for his elemental to attack her. The poor girl was holding her hands up. “Bend the knee!” he shouted instead. When she hesitantly lowered her arms, he mouthed, “Please, I don’t want to hurt you.”

The crowd took up the chant, “BEND. THE. KNEE!” to the pounding of the drum.

Alejandra, breathing heavily, immediately dropped to one knee, bowing her head. “I surrender.”

The crowd roared.

“And there we have it! Our first non-knock-out submission! A fine display of arcane skill! Simply superb!”

Augum strode over and helped her up. “Good duel,” he said, smiling.

“And a fine display of chivalry as well!” Giovanni shouted as the crowd rose to their feet, clapping and whistling their approval.

Augum led the trembling girl to Giovanni, who promptly raised Augum’s arm in triumph. “Our winner, in an illustrious display of arcane strength, reservation, and chivalry—Augustus ‘The Hood’ … Westwooooood!”

After the roar diminished a little, Giovanni leaned to Alejandra. “You fought valiantly, but it’s obvious to everyone you were outclassed. Your thoughts, Alejandra?”

She smiled and began speaking in a lilting but flowery accent. “Eh, I thought I well prepared, but, um—” She inclined her head at Augum, “he definitely stronger in arts.” She giggled while covering her mouth. “I not … how you say … good prepared.”

“And at what moment did you realize you were vastly outmatched?”

She covered her mouth again as she blushed. “Oh, so many!” The crowd chortled along, clapping politely in approval.

“Well, you’ve nonetheless won over the crowd with that smile, Alejandra, thank you for competing.”

Alejandra detached a flower from her hair and extended it to Augum. “In my culture, we give thank you to, how shall I say, brave kindness. Eh, thank you, Augustus Westwood.”

Augum accepted the flower, feeling it would be horribly rude not to, as the crowd
Awwed
and clapped and whistled.

Giovanni rested a hand on Augum’s shoulder. “And you’ve won over a girl’s heart. Well done, good sir.”

Alejandra blushed crimson as more whistles were heard.

“That was an unusual fight, Augustus,” Giovanni went on, “but a joy to watch. You started off slow yet quickly displayed remarkable arcane strength for your degree, but also, I sense, great reservation. You did not want to hurt her, did you?”

“Uh … no, I didn’t,” Augum had to admit, feeling the slight tremor in his voice reverberate the earth beneath his feet.

“Were you aware that we have two Legion healers on standby?”

“Uh, no, I was not.”

“Ah, then there shan’t be any excuse next time, will there?”

The crowd chortled as Augum hesitated.

Giovanni calmed them with a hand. “Before I let you go, when are you going to reveal your face to us, or would you prefer to stay mysterious?”

“Mysterious.”

Giovanni chuckled. “I thought so. Suits the name well, doesn’t it folks? Well, you have honored Solian necrophytes with your chivalry and skill, Augustus, and we cannot wait to see how you fight from here on.” He raised Augum’s arm again. “Advancing to tomorrow’s quarter-finals … the mysterious … the arcanely agile … Augustus ‘The Hood’ Westwooooood!”

Tap Into a Part of Ancestry

“My brave warrior,” Leera whispered as Augum stuck the red flower in her hair. They were leaving the arena and everyone was patting his back as they strode by. He had already talked to the registration booth, finding out his next match was tomorrow at the third strike of the afternoon bell.

“Didn’t know you could use Disarm on a Shield spell,” Bridget said. “How come we hadn’t thought of that?”

“Battle makes people creative,” Augum said, glancing at the suddenly darkening sky. “Looks like rain’s coming.”

Leera craned her neck. “That came out of nowhere. Won’t keep the crowds away though. You’re lucky you didn’t have to duel in the rain. Wish we were all competing … but then, I guess we’d be competing against each other.”

“You fought amazingly!” Malaika said from the rear, elbow interlocked with Charissa’s. “So bravely, so gallantly, so beautifully—”

Leera rolled her eyes. “Cork it, will you?”

“I was just being polite—”

Leera shook her head, muttering, “Spare me.”

“In any case, Augum, we’re going to further our quest,” Malaika said. “We’ll find out who you’re fighting as soon as the combatants duel, and we’ll spy on that person too. Come, Charissa, there is spying work to be done!”

Leera watched the pair skip off. “They better not wind up in an iron room, or I swear I’ll …” but she finished the rest under her breath.

“Did Robin watch the fight?” Augum asked.

“Don’t think so,” Bridget said. “I saw him strut off with Temper just after you entered the tunnel.”

Augum was relieved—he was lucky Robin hadn’t been watching. He had to be extra careful with his hood, even his voice. And he shouldn’t say too much at a time. If anyone here would recognize him, it’d be that arrogant miscreant.

The trio quickly dove into a more detailed discussion on the match, with an animated play-by-play retelling courtesy of a glowing Leera, who accented the story with air punches and dramatic dodges. After lambasting Augum for not following any of her shouted instructions, he had to explain how he hadn’t even seen where they sat in the stands, let alone heard them. Leera explained the girls had parked themselves in the very corner near the exit, and that next time she expected him to listen to her coaching.

“And don’t be so chivalrous either,” she said, smacking him on the shoulder. “This is a competition, not the Star Feast. And just what were you doing accepting a flower from such a pretty girl anyway!”

“He couldn’t just turn it down,” Bridget said with a chortle. “That would have been the height of rudeness. Besides, didn’t he give that flower to the one he truly likes anyway?”

Leera twirled the flower in her hair. “That he did,” she said in a mock snooty tone, and found Augum’s hand. He was very happy to hold it and wished he could hug her and squeeze her in his arms for a while. It felt like it had been
so
long …

The first drops of rain splashed onto the cobbled streets. Soon they made their way over the drawbridge and past the entrance guards to the library.

“Have either of you given any thought to the riddle?” Bridget asked.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I was a bit busy,” Augum replied with a smirk.

“And I was busy hollering at him,” Leera added. “You know—from the stands?”

Bridget gave them both a look. “Get serious, you two, we have work to do.”

“I
am
serious—” Leera said.

While the girls squabbled somewhat playfully, Augum glanced around the entrance hall, trying to draw inspiration to solve the riddle. Tap into a part of ancestry. Part of what ancestry though? It was something historical, wasn’t it? It had to be the library’s ancestry. It’s the only thing that made sense …

Large ironwork braziers in the shape of gargoyles burned near mammoth pillars that smoothly joined an arched ceiling. Women and men in gray robes quietly shuffled this way and that. Nothing overt stood out though.

He hated riddles. They were always something stupidly simple, or way too complex, or—

Suddenly he spied a curious-looking fellow. The girls stopped their squawking to watch the man too. He wore a simple weather-worn tan robe, rope slippers, and had a shaved head tattooed with a single, thin stripe that ran from the back of his neck, over his head, down to his nose, and through his lips, before disappearing into his chest, essentially dividing him in two, or at least symbolically. He would take a step, pause, ring a small bell, take another measured step, pause, and ring it again. It was a soft sound that barely penetrated the bustle. Yet the entire hall seemed to slow to his pace, even the flames of the braziers. Attendants stopped to listen, not even watching him. Even the Legion guards seemed to relax their stiff stances.

“Mountain Monk of the North,” Bridget whispered in reverent tones.

“What’s the tattooed line mean?” Augum asked in hushed tones.

“If I remember correctly, it’s the division between the past and future. The line represents the moment, ‘the eternal moment in which we dwell’, or so I read.”

A man in a silver-embroidered coat dipped his head and brought over money, which he placed into the man’s pocket, already brimming with coins, before quietly backing away.

Bridget dug out a silver coin from her pouch and brought it over, placing it in the man’s pocket, before backing away, head bowed slightly.

Augum watched the monk with a heavy heart, for the man suddenly brought into focus the great danger they were in, what they had overcome, and what still lay before them. The monk’s tattooed line was a symbol of the razor edge they tiptoed, that fine balance between life and death. Here was this soul, walking through an occupied library and a conquered kingdom, appearing to be unaffected by its troubles, completely reliant on others’ kindness, and accepting his fate.

The trio bowed their heads as he passed. Soon as he stepped through the doors, the bustle of the hall returned, though a little quieter, a little slower.

“Never seen one before,” Leera said. “Kind of makes me sad.”

Augum slowly nodded in agreement. After a long pause of them watching the rain turn to a downpour, Augum found Leera’s hand, squeezed, and said, “I have an idea. We could return to the
Ordinaries
library—” Bridget gave him a disapproving look at that word, “—and study ancestry, specifically about the library itself.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Bridget said, and she led them through the hall of bronze statues and on to the large hall of pillars and doors.

Bridget took a deep breath, adjusting her drawn hood. “All right, we sign in, talk as little as possible, and make everything about necromancy if anyone asks what we’re doing.”

Leera was nodding along. “Yeah, we can say it’s a homework assignment or something.”

And so they studied, and studied …
and studied
, going from ancient room to ancient room, section to section, signing one entrance parchment after another. Books were large, hand-written, and always chained to a shelf, forcing them to stand along a special podium for reading. A great many books were missing, and they only knew that because there were empty spaces with matching empty chains.